


On a rooftop in Brooklyn

by flowerbedlove



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of alcoholism, Protectiveness, Self-Esteem Issues, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29426139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerbedlove/pseuds/flowerbedlove
Summary: Rory Gilmore graduated from Yale two years ago, came back from Obama's campaign tour prematurely a year ago, broke up with her last boyfriend six months ago, started crying at nights three months ago, stopped talking to her friends and family a month ago, wrote her last article two weeks ago, had her last breakdown five days ago. She's four hours away from meeting an old friend.
Relationships: Tristan Dugray/Rory Gilmore
Kudos: 9





	1. Dorothy from Connecticut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by You Said Something by PJ Harvey. The fic inspired by the album Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea.

She felt as if the world around her was spinning to the maximum. Just thinking about how her life was turning out was making her stomach muscles tighten. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to even consider the fact that she was only twenty-four but felt like she had failed at life already. But it was it, wasn’t it? She was a failure. No job, no partner, no friends. Nothing.

She did have her plants. Oh, she had a lot of plants. Her favorite plant, a big ficus, which she christened Flavius just a couple of months ago while having one of her self-pity parties, was standing in a corner of her living room, looking rather pathetic. She probably hadn’t watered Flavius in days.

She had thought it was funny, naming her ficus Flavius. In fact, at the time she had thought it was hilarious. Everything seems hilarious after a bottle of wine. She didn’t really remember what was the funny part now. A ficus named after Roman emperor. Funny, Rory. You’re so funny. She had been in the middle of writing an article about Flavius Vespasianus for a small historical magazine at the time and she had just found out that he was one of a few Roman emperors who hadn't been murdered and died quite peacefully (if you can consider death of diarrhea as a peaceful one). It didn’t look like Flavius the Ficus would be that lucky.

Pity parties were an recurring theme in her life. You only need three things to have a pity party: a lot of alcohol, a lot of self-deprecation and to be completely alone. The rest is up to you, you can do anything. Watch TV, cry and drink. Have a bath, cry and drink. Dance around to music, cry and drink. Just cry and drink. Crying and drinking were always essential though. And she was an expert at crying and drinking. She was also very good at it.

She looked at Flavius and decided to release him from his misery and water him.

* * *

Just eight more steps. Seven. Six. Five. She had take a break.

Going to grocery store and finally buying some food was a good thing. She hadn’t managed to get out of her bed for four days so she was running out of food. Not that she was eating much lately. But she had woken up with vigor that morning, wanting to turn her life around. Get a new job, call her mom, clean the apartment, start anew. It tended to happen at least once a week. The enthusiasm usually left her body not more than just a couple of hours later. It had only taken her thirty minutes today but her mood hadn't dropped to her usual bellow zero level so she guessed it was time to make sure she had enough food in her fridge just in case she wouldn't be able to gather any energy in the next few days.

Her arms ached from carrying two full bags of groceries. She hadn’t worked out in who knows how long. The last time she had got dragged to gym was probably with her last boyfriend, Simon. She hated the gym, hated the sweat and hated the stares. But she was getting older, her metabolism started to slow down and she needed to move around more. And not only that, her back would start hurting her if she didn’t work out at least twice a week. Her back had been killing her lately.

Simon was nice. He was a doctor and they had met at his work. Her boss had wanted a heart-wrenching piece about pediatricians working with terminally ill children. Fun, right? She had got a contact on Simon and they had hit it off instantly. He was perfect in every single way. Compassionate, friendly, funny, incredibly fit. Her mother had loved him which was rather surprising considering the fact that Lorelai hadn’t seemed to like many of Rory’s boyfriends. But not Simon. She and Simon had started joking together from a get-go, almost like they had known each other for longer than just five minutes. Her grandparents had approved as well. A doctor from New York was a doctor from New York. He had them wrapped around his finger in a matter of seconds. And he was great to her too. He had made her laugh, he had made her take care of herself more and he had made her feel appreciated.

And then he had dropped the L word. And Rory had dropped Simon.

She unlocked her door, ungracefully put bags on her kitchen table and decided she needed a rest. All she did was go to a grocery store, just a couple of blocks away from her home, but she felt exhausted. She hadn’t not felt exhausted in months.

„Hey, Flavius,“ she greeted her ficus. „How have you been since we last saw each other, huh?“

After storing her food to cabinets and fridge she sat down on her brown couch and picked out a book she had been reading for the last month. She had got that old thing the week she had come back from Obama’s campaign tour, from some lady who had been selling it on internet. She loved the couch. She had spent last six months on that couch. _Diary of an Oxygen Thief_ was a short book but damn, she couldn’t get herself to read. Reading used to be her thing. The thing people had associated with her, the hobby she could always turn to, an entertainment for all times. Not now. The book was just shy over 100 pages, for god’s sake. And it’s been on her bed night table for 43 days now. She tried reading but her mind couldn’t concentrate on the text. She got bored after a couple of minutes.

She hadn't felt like herself for so long she barely knew who she was. Every day was the same. She lost interest in all her hobbies and interests. She was tired of everything.

She went to bed.

* * *

Maybe she went somewhere wrong. Well, she obviously went somewhere wrong. She just didn’t know when she took that step and started to fuck her life up. When her life started to deteriorate. But it felt like she was spinning, out of control, being spitted away from her great life to a complete disaster. The downfall from grace had been fast and hard. The tipping point was obviously her break-up with Simon. That's when things started to get really bad, when she stopped caring about the way she looked, when she stopped answering calls, when she started to feel annoyed by her job. 

She was currently unemployed. She had quit her last job two weeks ago. There was no energy in her to drag herself to an office every day, force herself to feel joyful over her assignments. She stopped caring about her job and it was apparent to everyone. So one day she had got told she had two options: quit or get fired. In both cases the outcome would be her packing her things and leaving.

But she also knew it wasn't about Simon, not really. He was just the tipping point. She had been struggling ever since she had started college. God, she was one of those people who had peaked when they were sixteen, cursed forever to be bland and uninteresting after leaving high school. She would be one of those losers trying to gather some sense of feeling by nostalgic remembering of "good ol' high school times" because that was the last time she truly felt like herself.

Her phone started ringing but she didn’t feel like answering. Hopefully it wasn’t her mother again. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in a month. Not that she completely cut her off, she would leave her voicemails, send her texts to let her know she was „okay just busy“, even send her a signed Phil Collins CD she had seen in the window of the record store she had passed on her way to get wine only two weeks ago. She never would’ve expected this. Not having any energy to talk to her mother. But here she was. Avoiding any contact with a world outside of her apartment. Her friends stopped calling weeks ago.

„Yes?“ she answered the phone after getting fed up with her Material Girl ringtone. Who picked that ringtone for her? It was probably her mom, thinking it would be funny. She missed her mom so much she almost started crying.

„Rory?“ She checked the caller ID to see Paris‘ name. Great.

„Hi, Paris,“ she signed. Suddenly she felt an enormous anger towards herself for answering. Just because she didn’t have the worst day ever it didn’t mean she felt like talking to people, Paris the least them all. She hadn’t heard from her in about six weeks. The last time they had talked, Paris had tried to get to Rory to open up to her. Rory had become allergic to people prying. So she snapped and the whole conversation ended in the biggest row imaginable. „Why are you calling?“ she groaned.

„Wow, nice, Gilmore. Not that I expected an apology but you could try to at least sound like you’re not absolutely annoyed just by me calling,“ said Paris.

„You called me. I didn’t call you. I don't have to act all happy that you decided to grace me with the privilege of hearing your voice,“ Rory started to get defensive.

„Forget it, Gilmore. I am calling you because I'm in New York and I didn’t really plan on letting you know or even trying to arrange a meeting with you since you’ve been such a pain in my ass but I met up with an old friend and they would like to see you.“

„Well since you asked so nicely then I don’t think so,“ replied Rory annoyed, quite honestly done with the call. Paris wasn’t the easiest person to get along with on good days. Not when both of them were angry with each other. Not that Rory would want to go out to see Paris and her friend anyway. She didn’t want to meet anyone. And she definitely didn’t want to meet „a friend who would like to see her“ after probably hearing only the worst things about her from Paris. She didn’t even remember the last time she spoke to someone (who wasn’t a cashier or her landlord) in person. Can one forget how to socialize?

„Look, maybe you have some plans, I don’t know, but if you don’t, you should stop by. We’re meeting at McSorley's at 7PM, it's that Irish pub near the 5th. He would love to see you. I know it's the last minute thing but you still have four hours to-“

„Thanks for the offer but you can tell them that I don’t want to see them. And I don't want to see you either for that matter. Bye,“ she ended the call.

* * *

She looked at herself in a mirror. She was paler than usual. That’s what not going out in months does to you. She was getting thin too. Losing muscle by not leaving her couch certainly didn't do her any good but she also didn’t eat much. One meal a day, usually just some non-nutrition takeaway, was enough for her these days. Especially since she had been used to being able to eat more than most of people. Her eyes seemed droopy and her hair lost all its shine. He skin was breaking in pimples and her lips seemed way too dry. She looked like a mess. She felt like a mess. She was a mess.

Sitting down she kept looking at herself. This wasn’t healthy. She knew that. She knew she needed help, she knew that she had to start living again. But she was so scared. Everything seemed so threatening lately. Even the smallest of interactions, smallest of changes. She was scared of staying like this, being a hermit, but she was terrified of changing her life as well. She blinked at herself and for a minute she could see how pathetic and sad and tired she really looked.

She could still make it. It was barely 5PM. She could get a shower, put some make-up on, get dressed and if she were to get out of her apartment in forty minutes she would make it on time. She needed to go. Paris might try to fight her but she needed to talk to someone who wasn’t a plant. She needed to try to go out and have a normal night out. The last time she had a night out had been the day Simon had decided to surprise her with his confession. And that was such a long time ago, the seasons had changed twice. Rory couldn't stop thinking about the offer. Paris was a friend. And even though she was angry at her, Rory was sure she was the safest choice. She tried to ignore the fact that they wouldn't be alone and there would be a stranger who was apparently very eager to meet her for some reason. She could do it. She could. Today way a good day.

„Here goes nothing,“ she said to herself after thirty minutes on nervous running around her apartment. „Bye, Flavius!“

And she was on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English isn't my first language so expect some grammar errors every once in a while. This is the first time I've ever tried to write a fanfiction so we'll see how it goes. I had a lot of fun writing this so hopefully I will be able to continue this.
> 
> Also, the next chapters should be way longer than this one.
> 
> And oh, this is post-seventh season and we're ignoring AYITL, ok?


	2. Stranger danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a longer one, so here it is. I think a big fat trigger warning is in order because of mental health topics.

As a child she had loved baths. And her mother had always made sure that a bathtub had been the best place to be. She had got her a duck and boats and plenty of other toys, she always had plenty of bubbles in her kingdom and there was a lot of splashing. Coming home after a long day in her first grade, which bored her terribly considering the fact that she had known how to write and count already, had been always great but on Tuesdays, her special bath days, she had been even more excited to get back to their little house. Bathtub had been her favorite place.

* * *

She shouldn’t have come. She realized what mistake she had made mere seconds after sitting down on a curbstone next to the pub Paris told her about. She had come inside only to find out that Paris and her date weren’t inside yet. Why weren’t they there? They should had been there ten minutes ago. She had made sure she wouldn’t arrive on time, trying to avoid being there first and having to wait for them. She had planned the whole thing inside her head. But no, they had to run late, and now she was sitting on a wet curbstone in front of the Irish pub feeling even worse than that afternoon.

Maybe they wouldn’t even come. She had told Paris to not wait up for her. Maybe they had decided to go somewhere else and now she was on her ass in the middle of a street like a dumb bitch waiting for people who might not even come. She got up, a wet patch on her jeans from sitting on wet pavement. She should go home.

„Gilmore?“ she heard behind her back. She turned to see surprised Paris.

„Hey,“ said Rory quitely. She could see the shock on Paris‘ face. Her eyes turned into narrow slits looking at Rory from head to toe. She felt naked under her stern stare. „Look, Paris, I am sorry about the phone call and I am sorry about the fight we had. And I am sorry for being such a bad friend lately. I was being a real Kate Hudson from Bride Wars. I want us to be Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson one day. Now that I am thing about it, it’s probably me who’s Anne Hathaway and you’re Kate because of the hair and-,“ she started rambling, rushing through her impromptu speech, only to be interrupted.

Paris grabbed her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. „Rory,“ she started. „Oh my god, are you okay? You look like death.“

„Thanks,“ Rory tried to laugh. She looked down on her boots, not able to handle Paris‘ stare for any longer. „No, I am okay. It’s just been a couple of rough days but it’ll get better. You don’t have to worry.“

„I would be more inclined to believe that if you haven’t been avoiding me for the last six weeks after mentioning that you were acting strange lately.“

„I am here, aren’t I?“ said Rory, the annoyance apparent on her face. Why couldn’t Paris just leave it alone, why did she always have to stick her nose into other people’s business.

„Rory-,“

„No, Paris, I am okay. Can we just leave it at that, please? I don’t want to fight again with you,“ pleaded Rory. She prayed for Paris to drop the topic. She really didn’t feel like having a heart to heart today. All she wanted to do was make herself feel a little bit better, forget for a little while about her awful life. And confessing to Paris just how far she fell wouldn’t do the trick.

„Okay,“ sighed Paris. „Let’s go inside. Tristan will be running a little late. That’s why I am late as well. He got stuck with a girlfriend of his. Sorry you had to wait, I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up. Although nobody forced you to sit on a wet road, that was all your doing. What were you even thinking?“ Paris asked seriously and led Rory inside, taking her hand.

„Wait, Tristan? What Tristan. Not our Tristan? Chilton Tristan?“ Rory stumbled upon her words. She hadn't even bothered to think about a friend Paris was bringing with her to the pub, she had assumed he would be a stranger, a mere acquaintance of Paris, a person she’d never have to think about in the future.

„Yes, of course I mean Chilton Tristan. Have you ever met any other Tristan? He has been asking me about you for forever. I thought I’d try to get you out today to finally satisfy his need to see you. The boy was starting to get annoying with his constant questioning. So I thought why not bring the source right to him, maybe he’d stopped annoying everyone who has ever met you,“ said Paris while seating Rory into a booth close to a bar. „And also it’s not like I knew much about what’s been going on with you lately.“

Rory winced. „Yeah, sorry about that again.“

„It’s alright. Wait here, I’ll get us some drinks,“ announced Paris before walking away.

Now Rory knew for sure that coming today was a mistake. Paris, she could do. A stranger, would be trickier but she’d managed. But Tristan? God, Tristan always kept her on her toes. Paris knew that something was wrong with her because she had known her for almost a decade now. She was fairly sure that Tristan would have her figured out the second she wouldn’t be able keep up with his witty remarks anymore, not even needing the years of friendship to figure out how damaged she was. Not to mention that the last time they had seen each other they had been sixteen. He probably still thought of her as that innocent avid reader who could do no wrong. Great, another person to let down.

She played with her thumbs, contemplating getting out of there before he arrived. It wouldn’t be so difficult. Paris looked to be in a middle of a fight with the bartender and she wasn’t looking her way. She could just grab her purse and walk out of door. Go back to her ficus and her records.

„Well, hello.“

His voice was deeper than she had remembered it. He looked different too. His jaw was more defined, his hair was longer and there was a light stubble on his face. All that Rory could think about was how good he looked while she looked like a total loser. She hadn’t cut her bangs in a long time, so her hair was long enough to tuck behind her ears again, she hadn’t thought of applying more make-up than the necessary amount to cover her bad complexion and she had a wet patch on her jeans.

„Hey,“ she murmured after a quick glance at his face. She looked at her lap again, leaning against the seating, trying to compose herself.

She didn’t expect having to live up to his level of expectations. He had been asking about her. To several people. She didn’t mean to be presumptious but she guessed it meant he probably thought about her from time to time. Wondered what she had been up to. She was sure he wouldn't be too thrilled if he knew what she’d really been up to.

„I thought Paris said you couldn’t make it? Something about working late?“

She was confused just for a second before gathering her wits for the last time that evening. „Oh, yeah. Managed to finish that early. I didn’t have time to let Paris know.“

„Couldn’t wait to see me, I bet,“ he smiled at her while sitting down. „Well, for one I am happy to see you, it’s been a long time,“ he added before she could reply. „Almost doesn’t seem real, to see you all grown up.“

Paris decided to come back with their drinks, two glasses of pints in her hands and a huge smile on her face. „Tristan! You’ve made it!“ she exclaimed. „How’s the girlfriend?“

„Marissa‘s great, she’s just got a new job offer so I was helping her move her stuff to her new apartment,“ Tristan smiled and looked at Paris.

Rory felt out of place. She hadn’t seen Tristan since high school but him and Paris obviously kept each other in their lives. She didn’t know what school he had attended or where he lived or where he worked. She didn’t know who Marissa was.

And the worst part was that he asked about her. She kept coming back to that thought but it bothered get that she had never even thought about asking about him. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought about him in years. But he had been asking around. He probably knew where she had attended school. He probably knew she lived in New York and that she had studied to become a journalist. The power structure intimidated her. He was the stronger one, knowing way more about her than she knew about him.

She couldn’t even look at him.

„Can you pass me the beer, Paris?“ she asked softly.

„Marissa is moving?" Paris ignored Rory. "What are you going to do? It would be a shame to break up, you’re great together,“ said Paris.

„No, she just thought it would be a bother to commute to work for an hour each day, she’s staying in the city,“ explained Tristan and briefly looked at Rory. She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Staring at her hands she realized how dry they looked. She wasn’t surprised.

„Oh, that’s good,“ replied Paris, the relief clear in her voice. „You’re the best couple I’ve ever met. Right after me and Doyle, of course.“

Rory felt like she couldn’t breathe. She glanced around herself and noticed how many people were in the pub. She started to panic. Tristan and Paris kept talking together like old friends and she had never felt more like she was third-wheeling. They tried to involve her in their conversation but she couldn’t get more than a couple of words out of her. Her hands were shaking.

So she started drinking. She always started drinking when she wanted to make herself feel more at ease. She had to stop the overthinking, the analyzing. Her brain didn’t seem to know how to stop itself without alcohol.

She was on her third beer in no time.

„Rory,“ she heard Tristan. Raising her head she noticed Paris was gone. For how long did she zone out? Rory made a sound to let him know she was listening, looking around to find her friend. „So… How have you been?“

„Good.“

„I’ve read some of your work. I loved it. You always had a way with words, especially when you were telling me to get lost,“ he chuckled. She saw the excitement in his eyes, sparkling with mirth. He was looking at her like he thought the world of her. She felt sick.

„Thanks,“ she managed to get out of her and tried to smile. She really didn’t want to talk about her work. She didn’t have any work. She wasn’t even writing.

Coming tonight was a mistake.

She hadn’t been doing anything, there was nothing they could possibly talk about. There were no recent funny stories, she didn’t talk with her friends to talk about them, she hadn’t been reading to talk about the latest book she loved, there we no stories about her mom or Luke or her grandparents. All she could talk about was her daily routine of waking up and going back to sleep.

She desperately wanted to go back to sitting there silently when Tristan and Paris had talked to each other. Because now there was a perfect oppurtunity for him to ask her questions she wouldn’t know how to answer without him finding out how wrong he was about her.

Where was Paris? Goddammit, where was Paris?

„Rory-,“ started Tristan hesitently.

„Where did Paris go?“ she asked suddenly, looking into his eyes for the first time in twenty minutes.

„Oh… Oh, yeah,“ he stumbled, suprised by hearing her utter the first full sentence directed at him in a while. „She went outside, I think? Doyle called her.“ He looked confused.

Rory kept quiet. She was ready to run. She couldn’t stay here. Not with Tristan – out of all the people – looking at her, asking about her life, her work. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to face people.

Coming was a mistake.

„I’m gonna go-“

„Rory, you’re acting odd-,“ he interrupeted her. At that moment she knew she had to leave. She couldn’t take that question from him. He noticed. He noticed so fast. She could tell from the concerned look on his face. He saw right through her.

„Sorry, I’m gonna go get another one,“ she pointed at her empty glass, making an excuse which probably wasn't even necessary, grabbed her purse and ran out of the place passing confused Paris, not looking back, not stopping for even a single second.

* * *

She gasped for air trying to find the right key to open the door to her apartment. It had started raining again on her way home and she was absolutely drenched, the raindrops hiding the tears streaming down her face. Her lungs were aching and her breath was ragged. She stumbled into her hall and fell on her knees.

Coming there was a mistake.

She had failed yet again. She had failed to have a normal conversation, she had failed to pretend everything was okay with her. Trying to catch her breath she wiped her nose and got up. She had to gather herself. She avoided looking into her mirror while dragging herself to the living room. She opened a cabinet she had beneath her TV, took a look at her liquor, grabbed the first bottle and took a big gulp.

She didn’t want to think. She couldn’t let herself think. She knelt down next to her CD collection and picked out Dead Kennedys, putting it in her radio and turning the volume right. She layed down on her carpet and stared at the ceiling. Her wet clothes were making her shiver. Her embarrassment was making her shiver. So long for not having the worst day.

* * *

She was drunk. Really drunk. The world was spinning and she kept wiggling on floor. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and shout. God, she wanted to scream really bad. Her whole body was preparing itself for the scream. She could feel the it in her chest, wanting to get out, wanting to release the pressure.

She vomited instead.

There was a pile of vomit next to her, some still dripping from her chin. All of a sudden she felt sober. And disgusted. She knew she was disgusting. Her mom would be so disappointed. Her grandparents would look at her with a blatant distate. _Our grandaughter is the smartest student in Chilton. She will go to Harvard and do great things in the future, we’re sure of that. She makes us so proud._ Yeah, right.

Paris would probably try some intervation, she would try to be all logical about this, make schedules and plans. But there was nothing logical about this situation. Luke, Lane, Miss Patty, Babette, they would be disappointed with her so much.

Tristan would be sad. Sad that the person he had idealized so much in the last years was just a fraud. A fake. A poser.

She was sad too.

She cleaned her mess.

* * *

She woke up thirsty. Her stomach was making horrible sounds and she felt as if she just got off a boat. Her livers were trying to deal with the amount of alcohol she had consumed the day before. She wasn’t an alcoholic, no, she was sure of that. She was drinking a lot but she always made sure to not drink too much in a week. If she drank too much, she took a couple of days to give her livers a rest.

She turned to other side before groaning and stretching for a bottle of water she always tried to have by her bed. She gulped a half of the bottle and fell back into her duvets. Remembering last night was not exactly comfortable. Tristan probably thought now she was a freak. Recalling his face was tough enough. She knew he had figured her out in a matter of seconds. She might had thought the worst of him in high school but she had always known he was one of the smartest people she had ever met. The look in his eyes had given away what he had thought. That she had been acting different than the girl he had known, that something was wrong.

She stayed in her bed all morning. She was embarrassed, her head was pounding and she generally felt like shit. She only got up because she could hear her stomach grumbling. After making herself some fast lunch, she played voicemails she had got while being out with Paris and Tristan.

„Hi, Rory. This is Lane. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks and it’d be nice to know what you’ve been up to. I talked to Lorelai and you haven’t been in contact as well? That doesn’t sound like you, Rory. Please, give me a call soon. I have so much to tell you.“

„Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird. And Luke is getting tired of my conspiracies so please give me a call so I can rest easily and with a light heart. Thank you, sweetheart. I just wanted to tell I miss you. Bye, my baby.“

* * *

She was on her floor again.

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

She missed her mom more than anything. She wanted to call her but she couldn’t find the courage. Everytime she picked up her phone she’d let her hand slowly fall down.

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

The knock surprised her, there was someone at her door. She got up, glanced at herself in the mirror. Well. It wasn’t the best, her hair was a nest and she had an oversized clothes on. She tried to get smudges of mascara around her eyes off. 

The girl at her door was maybe hundred times prettier than her. She had dirty blonde hair, reaching her breasts and bright blue eyes. She looked like she worked out regularly, her face wasn’t all bloaty from alcohol and she looked like she made sure to eat healthy, based on her radiant skin. She had a nice pair of jeans on her and a sleeveless shirt. She looked like a model. Claudia Schiffer would be envious of her looks. While Rory looked like a wreck.

„Hi, I am Mary. I’ve just moved into the apartment next to yours. Sorry to bother you but my boyfriend is coming over for lunch and I’ve just realized I have no eggs. So I was wondering if you, by any chance, had some? I would give them to you back the next time I go shopping, I promise,“ she smiled softly.

„Oh.“ Rory looked at her a little out of it. Mary’s smile was simply the nicest smile she had ever seen. You could tell she could do wonders with that smile.“Yeah, I think I’ve bought some just yesterday. Wait a second,“ replied Rory and turned on her heel. „Oh, and by the way, my name is Rory,“ she exclaimed at the beautiful girl standing in her doorway.

* * *

Her phone was staring at her. Ok, she knew she was being ridiculous, of course her phone wasn’t staring at her. But she could swear she felt the stare. Almost hearing mean chuckling, laughing at her, for not being able to call her own mother. Then she heard the ringing.

Paris.

She let the phone ring. Talking to Paris was not at the top of her list at the moment. She still felt incredibly embarrassed by her show yesterday. Meeting up with them, only to sit, keep silent and then run away after approximately forty minutes want her best moment. No, talking to Paris wasn’t an option.

The ringing stopped after a minute or so and her phone beeped with a new message. God, why couldn’t she just leave her alone.

„Hi, Rory. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m really concerned. You’ve been acting weird for months, you obviously lost some weight. Frankly, you looked awful last night. You said three words to me. And you really confused Tristan, the poor guy doesn’t know what he did wrong. I told him it wasn’t his fault but I doubt he believed me because I couldn’t even give him a satisfying reason why you were acting the way you were. I had to leave New York early this morning but please, give me a call. Anytime. Ok, I think that was all I wanted. Take care for now, Gilmore. And really, call me.“

The sense of nausea was strong.

* * *

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

* * *

Her days seemed to bland into each other perfectly. Every day was the same. But sometimes, before going to bed, she couldn’t recall what she did all day. She could remember waking up, and when it started to get dark again she made a surprised noise after checking time on the clock she had in her living room. Today was one of those days. Her mind was completely blank. It scared her. She was so exhausted to do anything, she was just sitting around all day but time seemed to pass extremely fast anyway. And it got harder each day.

Three days after the disastrous night out she heard a knock on her door. Looking through her peephole she saw her new neighbor with a tray of eggs.

„Mary… Hey,“ said Rory opening her door, trying to appear friendly and putting on a small smile. „Did your boyfriend like the lunch?“

„Yes! And apparently it tasted delicious, I bet it was your eggs, making it taste so good,“ she smiled a bright smile and handed her the tray. „Thank you so much.“

„No worries,“ she smiled. „And you really didn’t need to buy me new eggs, but it’s appreciated,“ replied Rory. Mary looked at her happily and smiled even brighter. She envied her being able to conjure such smiles.

„Well, I’ve had an idea and you can definitely tell me no, but I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go in my apartment for a cup of tea? Or coffee? Whichever you prefer,“ offered Mary, smiling at her sweetly. „It’s just that I am new here and it would be nice to have at least one neighbor who wouldn’t be creeped out by me constantly knocking on their door asking for free eggs or free flour because, spoiler alert, I suck at planning my shopping,“ she laughed.

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it maternal instinct but I can tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

Back in her apartment was her mom. And Paris. And Lane. All of them still waiting to hear back from her.

She wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. She wanted to disappear, never having to deal with friends and family again, she wanted to move somewhere where people didn’t have any expectations of her, where she didn’t know anyone, where she could be a new person any day of the week. Mary didn’t know her, she didn’t know anything, so Rory could pretend. That she was ok. And she was successful. And that she left her apartment more than twice a week to have a quick trip to grocery store.

„Yeah, sure thing, let’s go. I love coffee.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here I come with another one. I have another chapter prepared as well, a draft of the fic is all ready, so I know where I wanna go with this. So hopefully, I will see you soon with another chapter.
> 
> I just want to point out that I based her symptoms on my own experience. I've never got diagnosed, so I will not be diagnosing her condition as well (I am 100% better now).


	3. Baby girl, stick to your guns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I don't have much time, with school, work and all that but I wanted to put out another chapter. I did do the quick read through so hopefully you won't find many mistakes. This chapter isn't as heavy as the last one but some heavy chapters are ahead of us. I have most of them written already, I just need to finish one last chapter before I finally get to some happier stuff so I can't wait for that. Anyways, enjoy this one.

Mary might have been the friendliest person Rory had ever met. There was no doubt in her mind that she was the queen if her prom, the popular girl who’s also nice to everyone, she could picture it really well. She sipped on her coffee, the only thing that still made her happy.

„I heard someone listening to PJ Harvey last night, wasn’t it you? By any chance?“ asked Mary with a curious look on her face.

„Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so loud, sometimes I forget I don’t live in a house anymore and have neighbors to think about when listening to music. I just think music should be devoured, you know, especially someone like PJ Harvey, you gotta play her music loud,“ smiled Rory. She hadn’t talked about music with anyone for so long. She hadn‘t talked about anything with anyone for a long time. She missed it. She didn’t know why she felt like she could talk to Mary but for some reason, the lack of expectations on her new friend’s side, was making her feel at ease.

„No, no. I like PJ Harvey, I actually enjoyed it very much. Feel free to listen to her whenever you want,“ Mary assured Rory, sporting her sweetest smile.

„That sounds like you have some taste,“ teased her Rory. „I love the _Stories_ album. Not her most interesting work, and I know it’s basic choice but I just love how relaxing the album is. It’s a perfect soundtrack to running errands around New York, I think,“ laughed Rory into her cup of coffee. „Have you ever seen her live? I’ve never seen her, it’s one of my biggest regrets,“ continued Rory.

„It’s actually funny, my boyfriend is her biggest fan. I swear the guy could run her fanclub. He’s obsessed. He has all her albums, we watch clips of her performing at least once a week. But when I got him tickets to see her for his birthday two years ago he threw the biggest tantrum ever. He just refuses to go see her live. Can you believe it?“ she exclaimed.

„That’s so weird,“ laughed Rory. „Did he say why he didn’t want to go? Because if I ever had an opportunity to-,“ she stopped herself. „Well, I did actually said no to this one guy in high school who asked me to go to her concert with him.“

„Then you should meet my boyfriend I think you might be the only two people on this planet who would refuse tickets to PJ Harvey.“

„In my defense, he was difficult to get along with,“ replied Rory remembering her life all those years ago. „And he thought PJ was a guy.“

„No!“ screamed Mary with a smile. „What a poser! I hate that,“ she laughed. „Do you want another cup?“ she pointed at Rory’s empty cup.

„Yes, please! I have the a big caffeine addiction. You can thank my mother for that,“ smiled Rory at her neighbor.

_Hello, daughter. I don’t know what’s wrong but I know something’s wrong. Call it motherly instinct but I can just tell that there’s something wrong. The aura’s all weird._

She tried to kept the composure but mentioning Lorelai did affect her mood.

„There you go,“ said Mary putting down her cup a couple of minutes later. „Anyways, my boyfriend never explained why he refused to go with me. But it was our most horrible fight until that day. It was dreadful, I didn’t hear from him for four days after that.“

„How long have you been together?“ asked Rory.

„For five years,“ smiled Mary. „We met in our first year at college. We both went to Columbia, I studied political science and he was a law major. We both went to the same party and have been together ever since. Your typical college couple story,“ she smile at Rory with a dopey look. „What about you? You got a man?“

„No,“ blushed Rory. „I broke up with my last boyfriend a couple months ago, I don’t have the best of luck when it comes to relationships.“

„Well, I am sure you’ll find someone soon. I can feel it in bones, Rory.“

* * *

She felt good after coming back home. She hadn’t felt so good in a really long time. Maybe it was time to call her mom, she could tell her about her neighbor and seeing Tristan again, and Paris. There was finally some news to tell. After so long. Of course, she wouldn’t mention the lack of her personal life or the lack of a job. But she could tell her mother was worried. She should call her. She would.

„Rory?“ she heard on the other side. „Rory, oh my god, is it you? I’ve been so worried.“

„Yes, mom, I am sorry for not calling earlier. I promise nothing is wrong,“ she tried to sound reassuring. Nothing was right but her mother did not need to know that.

„Are you sure? Because I know when you’re avoiding me. The silence was bigger than the silence in the critics circles after releases of every Liz Phair record after her 90s era. You’re sure you’re good, kid? Even Emily called to tell me she couldn’t get ahold of you.“

„Yes, mom, I am good, you don’t need to worry,“ lied Rory. „I’ve just been busy at work. Now, Liz Phair’s career, that’s a thing worth worrying about,“ laughed Rory.

„Don’t. I still wake up at nights, chills running down my spine, remembering the epitome of downfall, that is her 2003 album. What was she thinking, Rory? What was she thinking?“ Lorelai exclaimed dramatically.

„How’s Luke?“ asked Rory, ignoring her mother’s dramatics and hoping that maybe if she managed to make the conversation about her, Lorelai wouldn‘t ask too many questions about Rory‘s life.

„Oh, he’s a darling. Loves the Phil Collins‘ album, he wants me to thank you very much for giving me a gift he now has to listen to five times a day,“ laughed Lorelai. „He sends his love. He misses you, we all do.“

Rory could hear the sadness in her mom’s voice. Her eyes watered and she felt how her throat tightened. She knew she was hurting everyone with her withdrawal. She knew they loved her. But the fear of them knowing how much she had failed in life was too strong. She was a coward.

„I know, mom, I miss you all too,“ she managed to reply, her voice getting hoarse.

„Then why don’t you come home for the weekend?“ asked Lorelai desperately. Rory started to get a little nervous. The conversation drifted to her sooner than she had expected. She didn’t like disappointing her mother, that was the whole problem. She didn’t know how to say no, how to be a disappointment, how to fail. All her life she had been cuddled and called smart and told how many great things she would achieve she had become paralyzed by the fear of not fulfilling everyone’s expectations. She didn’t know how to handle being an adult.

„No, mom,“ she replied, sounding irritated. „I don’t have time you know that,“ she continued.

„I am sure they could manage without you for one weekend, Rory. And we haven’t seen you in months. Who is your boss? Vlad the Impaler? They can’t force you to work every weekend,“ argued Lorelai.

„I can’t, mom, I am sorry,“ said Rory. „I want to come home but I just don’t have time. I don’t know what you want me to do about it?“ snapped Rory, trying to keep tears away.

„No, you’re right. I am sorry, Rory. I just miss you. Luke doesn’t want to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with me. He even told me he likes Johnny Depp’s version better. Can you believe his nerve?“ Lorelai tried to ease the tension with her playful tone. „Unbelievable!“

„Oh no, tell him he’s being stripped of the Gilmore title, we cannot have people with this absurd opinion in our family!“ replied Rory. She was hoping they wouldn’t return to the topic of her coming home again.

„And how are you, sweetie? I hope you’re not just working,“ asked Lorelai. „You need some time for yourself too.“

„Actually, I saw Paris a couple of days ago. And I have a new neighbor, she invited me over for a coffee. She’s nice. A PJ Harvey fan,“ laughed Rory.

„Good taste girl, I like her already. But Paris and your female PJ Harvey fan neighbor don’t sound like a dating material.“

„Mom,“ started Rory before Lorelai interrupted her.

„You broke up with Simon a long time ago, Rory, it’s time to get yourself out there.“

Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid it would fall out of her chest. She didn’t know if she wanted her mother to know she had met up with Tristan. Maybe lead her on to tell her there was something there. Lorelai wouldn’t worry about her so much then. But she would have to endure numerous calls and messages from her mother, asking about Tristan. And she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She wouldn’t even mention him. The risk was too high.

„I don’t need a boyfriend, mom. I’m happy,“ she lied.

„Ok, well. I gotta go, Luke has been obsessed with watching videos of soldering online and he just needs to show me a few of them. Can’t wait,“ mumbled Loirela, dripping with sarcasm. „Talk to you soon, kiddo. And don’t be a stranger, ok? Call me more often.“

„Of course, mom,“ replied Rory. „Bye, say hi to Luke.“ And she ended the call.

* * *

Being constantly alone came with perks. She wasn’t even feeling bored anymore. All she had to do was put the album of The Sugarcubes on, Björk’s voice filling her apartment, talk to Flavius and search through wikipedia. Looking at Wassily Kandinsky’s page she felt quite content.

The phone call with her mother made her sad. She felt relieved because she could go on for a couple of weeks without talking to her now but she hated how their relationship looked right now. And it was all her fault. She was the reason why they hadn’t talked for so long. She was the reason why their relationship had turned into a „hey, let’s call each other once a month“ relationship. Everything she touched turned to dust lately. Everything she tried failed. It was unfair. She was a good person. She was a good kid, she was always trying to do the good thing. The god obviously liked picking on her. God the Bully. Damn you, Jude Law.

She closed wikipedia and started paying attention to the music. She laid on floor, her favorite place to be lately, and closed eyes. All she thought about in the last few months was how to get out of this circle, the day-to-day misery, but it seemed like it was harder and harder to force herself to do something. With each day she felt more comfortable being all alone in her apartment, and less happy outside with strangers.

She had wanted to call both her mom and Paris but she couldn’t find the energy inside her to call her friend now. The phone call with her mother had been a progress. It felt like it. But she couldn’t deal with Paris. She would ask her more intimidating questions, asking about why she ran off, what happened with Tristan, what was going on. She didn’t have answers which would satisfy her friend.

For the first time she let herself really think of Tristan, let the fleeting thought evolve into something more than just „it was good to see him“. It was good to see him. Very good. Not that she had thought of him often, she hadn’t thought of him for years if she had to be honest. But seeing him brought her back to the times when she had felt smart, when she had felt like she deserved everything in the world, when she had been convinced she was a good person. That feeling had lasted just for a few seconds before she had started to feel inappropriate in front of Tristan, realizing all the expectations he had of her. But for a second, she had felt alright.

Tristan was always an enigma in her life, something that could’ve been in an alternative universe. She had thought of it just a couple of times. Once after she and him had stuck a tender friendship, once after he had left for a military school and once when she has been with Logan and seen the resemblance between him and her old friend.

She really hadn‘t thought much about it when they had become friends. Calling what they used to have a friendship was a bit of a stretch. But they had been friendly. The kiss by the piano had changed the pace of their relationship. It had felt more serene. Peaceful. When she had decided to ignore all the embarrassing tension, of course. The relationship couldn’t handle her being dumb and not realizing he only ever wanted her to get to know the real him. He had been an annoying asshole for 90% of time, but at other times, he could be sweet.

Looking at it now, thinking about them now, it was kind of funny how she had refused to give him a time of her day at that time when both Jess and Logan were so similar to him. He really had been the blueprint. Jess was the bad boy part of Tristan. Logan was even more similar to Tristan, the only difference being the fact that Logan hadn’t be the one doing the chasing. Trust-fond baby, bad boy persona, five girls at every hand and extremely annoying at times.

It almost felt like Tristan was the epitome of „bad place, bad timing“ kind of guy. She didn’t have any feeling towards him whatsoever when they had been in high school. She had Dean, who had been a good small town guy, the opposite of Tristan in every sense, and that’s all she had been ready for back then. But she wasn’t sure what would she do if she were to meet Tristan later in life. If it had been Tristan who had winded up naked in front of her dorm and not Logan.

When he had left for military she could feel the sense of losing something that could’ve been. She probably had been the only one he had said goodbye too. Thinking back to the moment they had last seen each other until that horrible meeting a couple of days ago, he had only talked to her. He hadn’t said his goodbyes to Paris or any other person on their crew that evening. He had come to say goodbye to her, knowing he’d probably never see her again.

He did. Eight years down the road.

Looking back at everything, at her ex-boyfriends, at her choices, her life paths, she couldn’t confidently say she wouldn’t had fallen for him if he were to stay for a couple more months.

There was no point in thinking about that though. He had left. And the possibility of them seeing each other again was low. The fact that they met after eight years of not seeing each other felt like a small miracle, and the chances of him asking to see her again were extremely low after their last meeting. And she wouldn’t be the one to ask Paris to give her his phone number. They hadn‘t even talked that much, she didn’t know why she was thinking about him that much.

She wouldn’t think about him anymore. There was no point. He was someone from her past, showing up unexpectedly, throwing her off her balance. But there was no point dwelling in what could had been or what his actions back then really meant. He was just a ghost of her past. She wouldn’t see him again anyway.

Björk’s voice was filling the space of her living room. _My heartbeat keeps up with the drums but soon my pulse will fade away. My fade away, I smile. For I know when the sun rises I will not see a thing._

* * *

She was staring at the wine selection in her local liquor shop. Maybe drinking as much as she did wasn’t a good idea. And she was drinking a lot lately. She kept saying to herself it wasn’t a big deal, that she was just trying to fight her sadness. She was addicted to not feeling the sadness, she wasn’t addicted to alcohol. No, no more alcohol today. She could handle not drinking for a couple more days. She could do that.

Leaving the liquor store empty-handed, she headed back her place.

After a couple of meters she turned and bought three bottles of wine.

* * *

She heard a knock. Opening the door she saw Mary, smiling at her, holding a CD in her hand.

„Hey, sorry to bother, but I‘ve just bought the new Tori Amos album and I was thinking that since we seem to have a similar music taste we might listen to it together?“ she suggested a little embarrassed. „Only if you want, of course. I wouldn’t want to disturb you, if you have some other plans.“

„Yeah,“ replied Rory. „I mean, no. I’m not doing anything now. I don’t know her music that well, I got to admit. I’ve heard a few songs but I am not really familiar with her. It might be fun though. Do you want to do it right now?“ she asked. Listening to music was the only thing she could still enjoy. And Mary, Mary without any pre-existing expectations, was a good companion.

Mary beamed and took her hand, dragging her into her apartment.

„Well, I can’t apologize enough, I thought it would be better,“ laughed Mary, filling Rory’s bowl with more crisps. „I know some of her old music was good, damn, I don’t know what happened.“

Rory laughed. The album was very mediocre at best but she didn’t mind. „I remember one of her songs, I think it was called _Winter_? I remember it being very good, so I am keened to believe you that this album wasn’t her best work,“ smiled Rory.

It almost felt like all those years ago, when she had been happy, listening to music with Lane, talking about the newest albums and the newest obsessions. That had been her favorite thing to do. Do homework, listen to _Black Box Recorder_ and chit-chat about nothing and everything at all for hours. She had a sense of happiness, she had felt alive. Her life seemed so perfect, looking at it back now. Of course, at the time, she had thought it was far from perfect, but no, she really hadn’t had any problems, her biggest problems being boys and what pizza to get. She wanted to go back.

„Oh!“ she could hear Mary’s excited voice. „I think I have that album, wait a second, it was on her debut, I am sure. I love that song, it’s so sad but so beautiful. Her voice is just wow.“

Mary searched through her CD collection, letting out an excited squeak when she found what she was looking for. She showed the CD to Rory and quickly put the CD in her recorder.

Rory felt the nostalgia hitting her even more while hearing the first few words of the song. She had spent a couple of days being obsessed with the song, never really returning to it later in life, but she could still recall every single word. _Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown._ She closed her eyes and let the music enter her ears and her brain, soothing her.

_I hear a voice: "You must learn to stand up for yourself, cause I can't always be around"._

Her mind went to Tristan again. She had felt so sad after he had left. And now he was here again, so close. She just wanted to go see him, catch up, ask him about his life after leaving hers. She wanted to talk with him so much. All she had to do was pick up phone, call Paris and ask for his phone number. But it was yet another „bad place, bad time“ situation. She couldn’t even call Paris. How would she gather courage to call him, of all people?

_He says: "When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do?“_

Sometimes throughout the years, and during those three times she had thought of him, she realized that he had really liked her. Remembering the way he used to look at her, with stars in his eyes. She knew she had been just a contest at the beginning but she was sure that by the time she had set him up on a date with Paris, he had real feelings for her.

_„When you gonna make up your mind? Cause things are gonna change so fast.“_

She heard the doorbell and Mary, apologizing, went to open the door.

The regret filled her whenever she had thought about her making-up with Dean in front of him, just mere seconds after he had tried to get her to go out with him. She hadn’t known. She had thought he was making fun of her, that he would discard her the second he had managed to get her. She had been afraid of him. And he had been annoying as well. The way he had decided to woo had been so wrong for the sixteen year old Rory. But she remembered yelling around how much she had hated Tristan and how much she had loved Dean. And Tristan, poor young Tristan, had heard it all. God, if the roles had been reversed she would have died out of humiliation.

_„You say that things change, my dear.“_

The song ended and the next song on the record, _Happy Phantom_ , started playing. She wasn’t paying attention to footsteps behind her but then she heard Mary‘s excitement. She turned her head to see her kissing a cheek of a tall man. Mary looked at her with the biggest smile.

„Rory! Look who decided to drop by? Meet my boyfriend!“ she smiled, holding a hand of her boyfriend, looking at him with utmost devotion. But he was looking at Rory, sporting a shocked look, looking like he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked good. And she felt like throwing up.

„Rory?“ he asked, his eyes looking gigantic from his surprise. „Oh my god, Rory!“ he smiled.

„Tristan.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and see you all soon again.


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